


a moving sea (between the shores of your souls)

by andibeth82



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Just two old friends and diner food and unexpected visits, Male-Female Friendship, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 02:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17889968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andibeth82/pseuds/andibeth82
Summary: “Thought you’d wanna go back to space,” Clint says. Carol grins and pushes unruly blonde hair out of her eyes.“I figured since I was already here, I deserved a little time to myself before fighting more aliens.” She cocks her head. “Plus, I’d heard rumors of the infamous Barton farm and I had to come see it for myself.”





	a moving sea (between the shores of your souls)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to my previous Clint and Carol fic **[these are the days that must happen to you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16908699)** but it can be read independently. All you need to know is I will forever hold onto the belief that Clint and Carol knew each other from early 90's SHIELD days. Also, I fully believe that for people in Fury's inner circle, Carol isn't the secret she is to everyone else.
> 
> This takes place in the space before Avengers: Infinity War, so no one has been snapped yet and things are still as they were post Civil War.

Clint stands at the edge of the mat, sweat dripping down his neck, fingers balled into tight fists. He closes his eyes and opens them, taking a step forward, bracing himself for the inevitable.

He’s done this before. He can do it again.

He ducks the first swing easily enough, moving nimbly, but the next swing catches him around the leg and causes him to go down. He reaches for the body trying to pin him to the mat and manages to grab an arm but the momentum overtakes him, causing him to tumble harmlessly against the foam with Cooper.

“Pretty good,” Clint says as he rolls over, taking a moment to collect himself. “You’re gonna kill it at tryouts this week.”

“Yeah?” Cooper looks hopeful, his eyes lighting up. “Even though I’m still small?”

“That can be an advantage,” Clint points out. “As you just showed your old dad.”

Cooper grins, clearly feeling confident. “Can we go again?”

Clint nods, taking some deep breaths as he forces himself to sit up. Fucking wrestling. Maybe he _was_ getting too old for this after all. The age jab had long been Laura’s go-to insult, but he always rolled his eyes and brushed it off.

“Alright,” Clint says as he gets up, wiping another thread of sweat off his forehead. “Round two. Remember -- this time keep your knees locked a little --”

He stops mid-sentence, his eyes catching sight of someone falling into his line of sight, and stealthily lets himself glance over as Cooper readies himself for another round of fight practice.

“Hang tight,” Clint says, holding up a hand. Cooper scowls, his face morphing into a frown.

“Daaaaaaad!”

“Just five minutes,” Clint promises, giving his son what he knows is his best apology look. “Why don’t you practice some of those moves I showed you earlier?”

Cooper looks disgruntled, but nods and makes a fist, beginning to go through the fight motions Clint has taught him. Clint watches him for a moment and then walks towards the figure who has perched herself on the thin railing of the wooden fence.

“Thought you’d wanna go back to space,” Clint says as he approaches. Carol grins and pushes unruly blonde hair out of her eyes.

“I figured since I was already here, I deserved a little time to myself before fighting more aliens.” She cocks her head. “Plus, I’d heard rumors of the infamous Barton farm and I had to come see it for myself.”

Clint snorts and waves his hand around. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but three kids and saving the world countless times over means that there’s not much to this farm. I’m sure you’ve seen more exciting things than a rotting vegetable patch.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Carol says, still smiling. “Gray suits you.”

Clint reaches up self-consciously and swipes at his temple, making a face. “Thanks for the reassurance, Danvers.”

Carol crosses her arms and fixes him with an amused stare, her bottom lip disappearing underneath two perfect white teeth, and he’s momentarily distracted by how normal and comfortable she looks. He supposes maybe she could say the same about him; he hadn’t exactly been the most put-together person when she picked him up on the road all those years ago after the circus had kicked him out.

“Anyway,” Carol continues, hopping off the fence. “You look good.”

“Yeah, well. I got my shit together a little more than I did in the 90’s,” Clint says, jerking a thumb in Cooper’s direction. “Now if I’m not shooting anything, I’m making school lunches and driving carpool and fixing swing sets.”

“All in a day’s work,” Carol replies, but she looks suddenly wistful. Clint finds himself wondering how many years she’s spent wandering around Earth -- or even space -- and clears his throat quietly.

“Hey, look. I gotta finish this wrestling stuff with Cooper first, but you wanna come inside?”

Carol arches an eyebrow. “I wasn’t planning on a long stay.”

“You don’t have to stay long,” Clint says with a shrug. “But at least stay for a bit. I really would like to actually talk to you for more than five seconds.”

Carol looks over at the farm, around the landscape, and finally lets her eyes settle back on Clint. “Are you sure?”

Clint smiles, remembering how she’d invited him into the cab of her failing truck so many years ago when she had no reason to pick up a grungy hitchhiker carrying a bow and arrow. “Yeah,” he says, hoping Laura won’t mind -- it’s far from the first time he’s invited in a stray over the years, after all. “Come inside.”

 

***

 

After finishing another wrestling session with his son, Clint’s beginning to re-think his offer of inviting Carol in. As much as he wants to catch up, he’s tired and sore. He wants to take a shower and collapse on the couch and maybe make himself a hot toddy -- and those are all things he knows he needs to figure out how to do with kids running around and a yelling baby added to the mix.

Carol’s lingered by the porch, just far enough out of range that Clint and Cooper won’t be distracted by her and hidden enough that Laura won’t wander outside and wonder why there’s some strange woman loitering on their property. As Clint rolls up the mat and tucks it under his arm, he catches Cooper’s furrowed brow.

“Who’s that?”

“Ah.” Clint nods towards Carol. “That’s an old friend of mine. She’s an Avenger, too.”

Cooper’s brows crease a little more, and he shields his eyes with one hand. “I’ve never seen her. Does she know Aunt Nat?”

“Yep,” Clint lies. “She was away for awhile, that’s why she hasn’t been around.”

“Cool,” Cooper says, his voice picking up an octave. “Where was she?”

 _Would you believe me if I said space?_ “A different country,” he answers smoothly. “Come on, let’s go inside. Mom’s gonna want you to wash up.” He shoves Cooper gently towards the house, breaking off to deposit the mat back in the barn before doubling back.

“I take it you haven’t told your wife I’m here,” Carol says, biting the inside of a frayed shirt sleeve as Clint climbs up the steps. “Should I be worried?”

“Eh.” Clint pushes past her to open the door. “Let’s just say she’s used to it.” He ambles inside carefully, taking stock of the scene before him before he can introduce more chaos to it: Laura wandering around in the kitchen dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and purple yoga pants, Nathaniel sitting in his highchair making loud banging noises as he attempts to find a rhythm for the plastic spoons Laura has gifted him with, Lila reading on the couch with her legs up and her eyes glued to the pages of her latest book. He can hear the shower running upstairs, a sign that Cooper’s in the bathroom.

“Honey?” He steps further into the house, Carol trailing behind him. Laura makes a noise, but doesn’t turn around from where she’s grating cheese into a small bowl.

“Clint, I told you that you needed to get Nathaniel cleaned up after breakfast,” she replies in exasperation. “I don’t -- _oh_.” She breaks off when she turns, her eyes widening in surprise, before her face morphs into a look that Clint can tell means she’s trying to muster all sense of normalcy in order to not give away the fact that she’s both annoyed and frustrated.

“Yeah, uh.” Clint grins sheepishly. “Sorry for the random interruption. This is my, uh, my friend Carol. I knew her from my circus days.”

“Oh,” Laura repeats, relaxing a little, and Clint sees the understanding manifest in her eyes. As much as she might still be wary, they’ve had too many years of situations like this for Laura to know when Clint was being absolutely genuine about bringing someone he trusted home and when he was pretending because the person could be a potential danger to their family.

“She stopped by for a visit while I was working with Cooper,” Clint continues. “And I thought -- well, it’s been awhile, and I thought maybe she could hang out here for a bit before she heads home?”

Laura nods slowly, letting out a sigh. “I guess I need to make sure we have enough sandwiches for lunch,” she says, shaking her head. “Honestly, Clint, I leave you alone for _one second_ …” She turns to Carol and extends a hand. “What’s your name again?”

Carol blinks and Clint sees her eyes narrow slightly before she extends her own hand back. “Carol,” she replies easily.

“Carol,” Laura repeats. “I’m Laura. I’d apologize for the way the house looks, but I can blame my husband for that instead.” She winks at Clint, who scowls. “Clint, there’s some open wine downstairs if you want to be a good host, but _please_ take your son upstairs and get him changed.”

“Done and done,” Clint replies, scooping Nathaniel out of his high chair with ease. The baby startles at the loss of his source of happiness as the spoons clatter to the floor, and his face crumples as he starts to cry.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Clint mutters as he bounces him on one hip, signaling for Carol to follow as he leaves the room. He mentally pats himself on the back as Nathaniel’s cries quiet, silently congratulating himself for years of successful parenting. “Give me a second and I’ll get you something.”

Clint can tell she’s amused, though he’s not sure if it’s because she’s seeing him in his element or because she’s never really been around this kind of domestic environment. He leaves Carol in the living room and makes his way downstairs to the small wine cellar he’d built a few years ago, removing an open bottle of chardonnay and bringing it back upstairs.

“Glasses are in the liquor cabinet,” he says as he hands her the bottle. “Anything goes, in case you can’t tell. Three kids mean you can drink as early as you want.”

He watches as Carol walks to the other side of the living room, opening a large cabinet and removing a glass. She pours generously while Nathaniel reaches out, his arms flailing.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Clint says, pulling him back. “Maybe in like, sixty years.”

“ _Sixty_?” Laura interjects from the kitchen, and Clint’s not surprised she’s overheard him. “Try _eighty_.”

He rolls his eyes as Carol takes a sip of wine, making a face of approval. “Coming? You can keep me company.”

“I suppose I don’t have anything better to do,” Carol says, and Clint allows her to follow as he removes the baby gate and climbs the stairs, eventually making his way into Nathaniel’s room.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Carol says as soon as they’re alone, the door having closed behind them for good measure. Clint turns around and fixes her with a confused look.

“What?”

“ _You_.” Carol puts her glass down on the dresser. “The woman from the diner all those years ago. You actually married her?”

“Um.” Clint tries to shrug off her comment, but he can’t help the smile crawling over his face. “Yeah. Guess I did.”

Carol huffs out a laugh and reaches for her glass again. “I’ve seriously never been prouder.”

Clint pouts. “That hurts, Danvers. You’ve seen me shoot from two miles away and make a target with my eyes closed.”

“Yeah, but did you _bang_ that target?” Carol asks pointedly. “Three times in a row?”

Clint groans. “I hope you know that the only reason I’m not swearing at you is because I’ve got a one year old who I have enough parenting to know will recognize if I say something bad.” He pauses as he puts Nathaniel down in his crib so he can hunt for fresh clothes. “She didn’t recognize you.”

“No,” Carol says thoughtfully, taking another drink. “I don’t think she would have. I was probably one of thousands of people who walked in off the road at that place.”

“But you were with me,” Clint says. “And you’re the one who gave her my number.”

“I think she was _much_ more interested in you than me,” Carol reminds him. “But now that you mention it, I could see her going for the girls — I mean, if that’s a thing that you’re implying.”

Clint laughs to himself as he reaches for the drawers, pulling out a small blue shirt and even smaller pair of shorts. “Can’t say I missed you, Danvers.”

“Oh, you missed me,” Carol says, and Clint can tell she’s enjoying the easy banter as much as he is. “I can tell.”

He falls into silence as he works to change Nathaniel out of his pajamas, keeping the baby occupied by singing softly to him. When he’s finished, he turns back and sees that Carol’s finished her wine.

“I’d offer you something else, but I don’t want you drunk around my kids.”

“How nice,” Carol replies sarcastically. “If you’re _really_ bored, we could blow this joint and take another road trip. You know, for old times sake.”

“Ha.” Clint snorts. “As tempting as the idea to run away is, I’m a dad now. I have responsibilities.”

“Well, what if running away was in the _confines_ of your responsibilities?” Carol suggests. “Can’t your wife watch your kids if we take a drive somewhere?”

Clint considers this, half wondering how much Laura would kill him for not only bringing someone home but also for dumping everything on her just so he could have some alone time. Truth be told, while he knows it’s not _great_ , it wasn’t the worst thing he’d done to her since he’d retired.

“Lemme see what I can do.”

He picks up a newly dressed Nathaniel, who giggles and pulls at Clint’s ears as he lays the baby on his shoulder, leaving Carol in the bedroom as he walks back down to the kitchen. Laura’s where he’s left her, still puttering around the kitchen, but she’s moved on from washing dishes to organizing bills at the table.

“Hey,” Clint starts cheerfully as Nathaniel reaches for his mom with a wide smile. “So, uh, Carol and I were talking about maybe taking a short drive so we could catch up without all the craziness -- whaddya say?”

“I say,” Laura says without looking up, and Clint can tell she’s choosing her words very carefully, “that you should think about what you’re asking.”

“I know,” Clint says with a grimace. “I _know_. I know your parents are away so we can’t call them to come over and help, and I know Cooper’s been a menace lately, but Lila should be okay if you let her keep reading, and --”

“Clint,” Laura interrupts. “Go and I’ll figure things out. Just don’t disappear for the whole day, okay? I’d like you home for lunch.”

Clint lets out a long breath and nods, kissing Nathaniel. “Yes ma’am. I’ll even put Nate in his bouncer if you want.”

Laura doesn’t answer, but Clint sees the small smile lifting at the corner of her mouth and knows he’s good. He finds the abandoned bouncer in the living room, makes sure his son is comfy and satisfied, and surprise-tackles Lila on the couch. When he finally extracts himself, he sees Carol standing near the foyer entrance, her face a picture of bemusement.

“Yeah, I’m a dad cliche,” he admits as Carol stifles a laugh. “Come on, I got permission to be irresponsible for a little bit.”

He grabs a sweatshirt and a set of keys from the hanging rack near the door and tugs the sweatshirt over his arms as he leads Carol outside and towards the old truck that’s parked by the barn. Carol gives it a once-over as she inspects the vehicle, before climbing in the passenger seat.

“This really _is_ like a trip down memory lane. Did you fix this up yourself?”

“Yep,” Clint says proudly as he starts the engine and backs up. “You’d be surprised what forced retirement can do to you. I found skills that I didn’t even know I had. Which says a lot, considering I’m supposed to shoot a bow and arrow for a living.”

Carol smiles as she rolls down the window, letting the mild air twist her blonde strands into messy twirls that tangle at the base of her neck. “Do you like it?” she asks after a moment. “The whole retirement thing?”

Clint lets her words sit with him while he focuses on the road. “Yes,” he says honestly. “But I hated it at first. I was happy to be home and I was happy that my family was safe, but I hated feeling sidelined. I hated feeling like I didn’t matter. I still would go out and shoot…” He trails off, letting out a small sigh. “It didn’t feel the same, though. It felt like something was missing. Gave me time with my family, though. I got to see my son after he was born -- I mean, _really_ got to see him. I got to be there for all the things I’d missed on and off while I was with the Avengers and with SHIELD. I got to be there for Laura when she was upset. I got to see Lila’s growth in school. I got to help Cooper with things like wrestling and baseball.”

“Well.” Carol inclines her head. “I get that. I mean, hey...you’ve got a home, and you have a family, and you should take care of that.”

Something in her words makes Clint feel sad, and he can’t figure out what it is. “Yeah,” he agrees as he pulls off the almost deserted road and into a parking lot that’s barely filled. Carol leans forward and chokes back a laugh when she sees what they’re parked in front of.

“For old times sake, huh?”

“You said it, not me,” Clint says as he kills the engine. “But this time, it’s take out, not sitting in a booth.”

“No hot girls to hit on in this diner, huh?” Carol asks as Clint gets out of the truck and slams the door, effectively cutting off what he knows is another jab.

There’s barely anyone working at the counter, but he manages to order without issue -- a coffee and an egg sandwich for him, a coffee and a side of bacon for Carol -- and by the time he’s gotten back outside, the sky has warmed from a muted mid-morning blue to a soft early afternoon aqua with wisps of marshmallow clouds.

“It’s pretty,” Carol remarks as Clint gets back into the truck. He puts the bag by his feet and looks at her in confusion.

“The food?”

“The sky.” Carol shoots him a look. “Earth. It’s pretty.”

“Oh.” Clint starts the car again and drives out of the parking lot. “It is, but I’m sure it’s nothing compared to space.”

“Space has its perks,” Carol says a little wistfully. “Especially if no one knows you’re there.”

Her words leave a pointed mark in Clint’s mind, and he realizes that he’s forgotten how much of a secret Carol really is. He wonders if he’d even know her had he not run into her all those years ago, had Fury not recruited him for SHIELD on her recommendation. He’d talked about her with Hill and Fury, he’d even talked about her with Natasha, but over the years, Carol had become a ghost more than she’d become a legend -- Clint knows none of the other Avengers know about her and even _he_ tends to forget that she’s out there, working on her own.

“Why did Fury call you back?” Clint asks as he pulls off the side of the road, stopping at the edge of an open field. Carol turns to look at him, and Clint can tell she’s trying to decide whether to tell him the truth or make another sarcastic remark.

“He wanted to update me on some stuff that’s been going on after the whole airport debacle -- the Chitauri weapons going missing, the stuff in Wakanda -- you’ve heard all about that in your retired grandpa state, right?”

Clint glares heavily and Carol stifles a laugh. “Anyway, I think he missed me. Or he missed my cat. Really, it could be both.”

“Well, he’s not the only one who missed you. Even if you still insult me.” Clint takes the bag of food and gets out of the car. “By the way, I’ve _still_ never met your cat.”

“She’s not that big a deal.” Carol picks up a baseball cap that’s been lying by her feet and fits it snugly over her scalp. “I _did_ miss you, Clint. And as much as I might make fun of you, it makes me happy to know that you found your way.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it _finding my way_ ,” Clint says with a little disdain as he climbs into the back of the pick-up, motioning for Carol to follow. “It wasn’t like Fury found me and my life magically changed.”

“No, but trust me. You’re a long way from the hitchhiker I picked up on the side of that road.” She reaches into the bag of food Clint’s put between them, unwrapping her bacon, and Clint watches her breathe in the smell of charred grease. He can’t help but smile as he bites into his own sandwich.

“I bet they don’t have bacon in space.”

“Actually, you’d be surprised. Space food is pretty good, especially once you get used to it. But give me a cheeseburger any day of the week.” She shoves a piece of bacon into her mouth and chews thoughtfully, glancing at Clint. “This is nice.”

“Yeah,” Clint agrees, staring up at the sky and closing his eyes. “I come out here sometimes by myself. I’ll drop the kids off at school, or take Nathaniel to day care, and then I’ll stop here so I can sit and think.”

Carol draws her legs up and places her chin delicately on her kneecaps. “I fly,” she admits quietly, her voice almost lost in the wind. “Space is good for that. You can fly and get away from everything and you don’t need a car.”

“Stop one upping me,” Clint grumbles as he takes a sip of coffee. Carol laughs with the same, quiet tone.

“So, Clint Barton.” She turns to him with sparkling, curious eyes. “Why don’t you tell an old friend about your partner.”

“My partner? Natasha?” Clint blinks, caught off guard by the question.

“Yes,” Carol says in exasperation. “Is there someone else you’ve been working with that I don’t know about?”

“Clearly not,” Clint bites back. “What about Natasha?”

“Really?” Carol raises an eyebrow. “Nothing? I’ve heard the stories from Fury. I’ve heard what goes on between you guys when you go on missions. Just because I’m in space half the time doesn’t mean that I’m not aware of what’s going on _down_ _here_.”

Clint’s in the middle of taking another sip of coffee and almost spits it out at Carol’s words. “Seriously?” he sputters as coffee trails down his chin and dribbles onto his sweatshirt. “No, I -- Natasha’s my _partner_ , Carol. You of all people should understand that. She’s saved my life and I’ve saved hers. We’ve worked together for years -- she’s my best friend. She’s like family.”

“So there’s never been anything between you,” Carol says skeptically, giving him look that Clint can almost classify as disappointed. “Not even once?”

“I told you, she’s my best friend,” Clint replies. “I love her, and I love her the way I’d love anyone who’s seen the best and worst parts of me. What more is there?”

“Mmmmm. What more is there?” Carol asks teasingly, and Clint can tell she doesn’t believe him. He grabs for her hat, pulling it over her eyes.

“Knock it off, Danvers.” He can tell she’s not going to stop pushing him about Natasha, so he takes another sip of coffee and tries to think of a way to deflect the conversation. “Do you ever think about it? Coming back for real?”

“Kind of.” Carol looks down at her food. “Fury’s asked me. He said I’d be useful here. But I have responsibilities, too.” She meets his eyes knowingly. “There are people in space -- a family that I have up there -- they care about me and they need me. So as much as I’d like to come over for babysitting and bacon, I’d also like to make sure the world is safe.”

Clint nods slowly. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Natasha’s out there right now. I’m not even sure where she is -- she’s staying undercover so no one realizes she’s still doing Avengers stuff -- you know, the Accords shit and all that. I would’ve gone with her, but…” He trails off. “You get it.”

“I get it,” Carol repeats, taking his hand. Clint notices that her palms are warm, and it makes him smile.

“You know, I was pretty nice to you all those years ago considering you never told me you were an alien.”

“I’m not an alien,” Carol corrects. “I’m half alien.”

“Oh, my mistake,” Clint responds airily. “I didn’t realize it made a difference.”

Carol ignores his tone. “That road trip was worth it, though. I got to know you. And for the record, I would’ve told you I was an alien but I didn’t think it was in your best interest to know.”

Clint laughs, bowing his head. “Yeah, well. I probably would have either told you that you were crazy or ran away, so I guess that’s fair.” He looks around, taking in the stillness, letting it calm him. “I never thought my life would end up like this.”

“Like what?” Carol asks with a knowing grin. “Having a wife and three kids, or being a special agent with SHIELD?”

“Both?” Clint shakes his head. “I mean, I’m sitting here drinking coffee with a superhero who is half alien, and in the back of my head, I’m going over answers from last week’s math test that I know I need to help Cooper with later.”

“You _are_ a superhero for a living,” Carol reminds him. “Even if you don’t feel like one. I know how you think, Clint. And you’re more of a hero than anyone I know. You were there for me when no one else was. You didn’t judge me, you helped me see that life could be fun and spontaneous, you gave me a real friend...I know it was all by chance, but I don’t think you really understand how much that meant to me.”

“Is that why you recommended me to Fury?” Clint asks curiously. “Because you wanted to repay me?”

Carol’s quiet for a long time. “Yes and no,” she says finally. “I saw things in you that I’m not sure you would’ve seen in yourself, and I wanted you to take advantage of that. I also wanted you to find some sort of home -- though I guess I should’ve had more faith in your flirting skills.” She nudges his shoulder gently. “But I wanted to do something that would make me feel like I was able to give back what Fury gave me when I was finding myself here, before I knew who I really was.”

Clint puts his coffee down and leans back. “I don’t have superpowers,” he says. “And I never will. I’m okay with that, Carol. I really am. I _know_ I’m good at what I do, I just wish I didn’t have to compete with everyone so much to feel like I deserved it.”

“Having powers isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Carol says. Clint grunts, shifting in place.

“Says the girl who can shoot lasers from her _hands_.”

“And have you ever seen me make an omelette?” Carol shoots back. “Trust me, no one is going to be banging down my door so I can be a normal domestic homemaker, Clint. I appreciate that about you.”

“Well, at least someone does. Aside from my kids.”

“And your non-girlfriend partner.”

“And my non-girlfriend partner,” Clint repeats, rolling his eyes. “You’d like Natasha. You guys would get along.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Carol says, her voice light and mischievous. “I’ve heard the stories. Maybe next time I come by, I can meet her.”

“I will _only_ allow that if I can be there for that meeting so you don’t talk about me behind my back and tell embarrassing stories,” Clint cautions, only half teasing. “I already go through that when Natasha visits Laura without me, and it’s really unfair.”

“I can’t make any promises, you know that,” Carol says, picking up her coffee. “Speaking of Laura, don’t let me keep you away if you’re on a time limit or something. I _did_ overhear that there might be sandwiches at the Barton farm later.”

Clint laughs, feeling his body relax. “Yeah, I’ll have someplace to be eventually. But I think we can hang out for a bit longer, at least until we finish our coffee. Or until my dad timer goes off.”

“I can’t believe you have a _dad_ timer,” Carol mutters as she puts her head on Clint’s shoulder. They both stare up at the sky, eyes settling on the clouds, and she sighs quietly.

“I did always like sitting around with you, Clint Barton.” Her next words, genuine and soft, make him smile. “It was the most human I’ve felt in a long time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @isjustprogress!


End file.
